Hallelujah
by Dexxella
Summary: Written as a celebration of the series that is Fullmetal Alchemist. Because love is not a victory march but a cold and broken Hallelujah.


Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood is officially finished! 8D This fic is meant to be a celebration of both it and the manga. So yes, if you haven't already guessed, there are a lot of spoilers.

This oneshot is based on the song _Hallelujah_ by Jeff Buckley. I'm not sure if he was the one to originally sing the song, but his version is my favorite out of all the one's I've listened to. It's a pretty well-known song, but if you've never heard it, you need to listen to it, NOW! xD Kidding. But seriously, it's an amazing song. I cried when I first heard it.

Unlike a lot of songfic's I've read, this one doesn't have the lyrics listed beside the corresponding part of the story. I did try to hide several lyrics inside the content of the story though, and the way it's set up is that each section represents one verse of the song. You don't need to know the song to read the fic, however~

Thanks to authorwithisssues for beta-ing this~ She's amazing, you should look her up. ^^

xxxx

All they ever wanted was to please her, to see a smile break out across her tired face. They wanted to see her smile like she used to, before he left her. Because ever since he left, her smiles didn't quite seem as genuine as they used to be. When Hohenheim left, he took a large part of his innocent wife with him. Trisha knew, somehow, that he'd never come back (or if he did, it would be long after she had left the world), but she couldn't seem to stop her dreaming.

When she smiled, her sons smiled too. To see her happy made them happy. She was the Lord of their life; she held complete and utter control over her two sons. They would have done anything for her, just to see her smile.

And when she caught Ed drawing on the floor in their Father's study, she'd been cross with them. And both of their stomachs had sunk. Al dropped his head to stare at the floor, regret covering his face. Ed had wanted to do the same, but it was more like Al's personality to be ashamed.

Instead, Ed spat out a one sentence explanation and demonstrated.

A bird. That's what Ed had transmuted for her. It was tiny, not even as large as a roll of bread, and it was stuck to the wooden floor.

Their ploy worked. Trisha smiled. A big, wide smile that made her two sons' eyes light up. They'd found that one line in their song, that one chord to play to make their audience stand up and cheer.

She was the Lord of their life, and their alchemy pleased her. So they would continue to study it.

But it wasn't the alchemy that Trisha loved;, it was the reminder of Hohenheim.

The fourth time they transmuted something, she was just as amazed as the first time. The fifth time, she showed the same pure joy as she had before.

Because she could never be reminded of the man she loved too many times.

And then, as must come after every rise, they fell.

And they fell like none other.

Ed honestly thought he was going to die. And when he understood that he wasn't going to, he wished that he would. He hated himself for what he'd done to his brother. It was his foolish pride that had been their downfall. Bringing Trisha back was his idea, and even when Al voiced his worries, Ed had been the one to comfort him and assure his younger brother that everything would be alright. Ed knew that everything was all his fault.

But he had to keep going, for Al's sake.

And Al, it killed him. It absolutely tore him up inside to not be able to feel, to not have a solid body, but only something as intangible as a soul. In alchemy, there was the body, the mind, and the soul. If you even just take out one part of the equation, the final factor ends up as an irrational number.

But Al was never stupid. He knew how Ed would react if he knew how miserable his brother was. So Al had to be strong.

He had to keep going, for Ed's sake.

And when Ed became a State Alchemist, that it was the happiest Al had seen him for a while. He'd talked on and on about how they'd definitely get their bodies back, now that he had access to the military's records. Losing their bodies was just a minor fall, and it happened for a reason, right? Because they had to fall before they could be lifted up. And they were going to rise again. Ed didn't have to say that though—Al already knew it.

"We can do this now, Al. Now that I can access all of the military's research, I'll definitely find a way. It's impossible for me not to. This is it, Al. This is just what we need."

Long into the hours of the night, Al found himself echoing the very words that Ed had repeated to himself and fallen asleep to.

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._Roy Mustang had always admired Riza Hawkeye.

From the day they met, just two innocent kids, one with dreams larger than himself and the other with an undying loyalty just waiting to be bestowed upon someone, he'd admired her.

There was something fierce in her eyes. When they were young, and he hadn't been able to pinpoint that expression quite so well, and he'd been afraid of her. Rightfully so. She had a tendency to throw things when she was mad. When Roy found out that she was learning to use a gun, he'd been extremely careful with what he said for weeks, until she picked up on his terror and assured him that she wouldn't shoot him as long as her father was pleased with his efforts to study alchemy.

Roy relaxed a bit after that. He'd always gotten along with master Hawkeye well enough. Just to be safe, he decided to study twice as hard anyways.

But as they stood, staring down at her father's grave, Roy Mustang had his first meaningful conversation with his master's daughter. It was about that time when his fear turned to respect as he began to realize the way she saw the world was not too different from his own view of things.

That was also the first time Roy became conscious of just how beautiful Riza Hawkeye was. She'd cut her hair short, and he had to admit, there was nothing particularly striking about her features. But somehow, sometime during that conversation, something in Roy Mustang's heart changed, and all he could think about was how gorgeous his master's daughter was.

And when she asked if she could trust him with her father's secrets, he'd nodded, and urged her to give it up so that he could help people. Even if her father disapproved of his choice to join the military, he'd hoped that she'd understand. She understood his goals, she understood his motives. He needed her to understand his choices.

She'd led him back to the all-too-familiar house, and pretty much shoved him into one of their kitchen chairs. Her hostility confused him, and he couldn't quite explain the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. He hoped he hadn't done anything wrong. He needed the information she had, and after his revelation of her beauty, he was just a bit more eager to stay on her good side.

"If you're not ready to give up your father's research…" He began hesitantly, not wanting to see his master's daughter cry, "I can wait. I understand that it's a part of him and you might not want to lose—"

But he was cut short.

Sometime during his hasty declaration, Riza Hawkeye had turned away from him and removed her shirt. She clutched it in front of her like a life vest, and her bare back exposed to him, Roy Mustang understood.

"I'm so sorry…" he whispered, instinctively reaching out towards her. "Riza, I'm so…"

"There's paper on the table, Mr. Mustang."

"Right, right, I understand." He spun around in the chair and scrambled for the paper and pen. In his haste, he knocked a coffee cup off of the table. It crashed to the floor and shattered into hundreds of pieces. Riza didn't show any sign that she'd even noticed, and Roy's mind was too focused on other things to care. With shaking hands, he hurried to copy down the words and symbols engraved on her back.

_It shouldn't be like this. This alchemy should help people, but it's already hurt the person closest to its creator. _

Roy sat with his back stiff against the chair, as if he was tied to it, which he might as well have been. He didn't dare move or do anything that would upset Riza even in the slightest bit.

_Never again. I will use this to help people. Riza Hawkeye is the first and last person that the flame alchemy will harm._

He couldn't help but cringe at the thought. It killed him to know that Riza had endured the pain of having her entire back defaced with a tattoo so huge that there was more ink than skin visible. And if he'd respected her before, he worshiped her then.

_Hallelujah, _was all he could think._ Thank you Riza, thank you. I'll use your pain to help others. Thank whatever God there is above that there are people like you who will sacrifice, willingly or not, for the good of others._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._Every single time something unexpected or horrible happened, it seemed vaguely familiar to them. Perhaps because the emotion experience in such dire times, such times of need, was the same.

That racing feeling, as if their hearts would pound out of their chests, how their breath would catch in their throats, the way their stomach would drop and turn-it was all familiar. They knew that they were risking their lives daily, and they accepted it without complaint

They'd seen despair, they'd seen death, they'd seen hate.

The line of work they were in was dangerous, not to just their bodies, but to their minds and souls as well. No one had ever left the military as the same person who joined up all those years ago. But without risk, there could be no gain.

If they did gain anything in the whole, messed up scheme of things, it was each other. The bond that formed between the soldiers made any previous friendships seem frivolous. It made them all wonder how they'd lived, so alone, before they met each other.

But what they did know for sure was that they would see this through until the end, together. Because alone, they were nothing and always would be nothing.

There were times when they couldn't see the flag of the finish line, or even the marble arches and streets of gold that would let them know that they were on the right path, the path to victory. But the gold streets became littered with mud and debris. The marble arches collapsed, and the flag at the finish line burned to the ground.

Blindly, it seemed, was the way they would operate. There was no sign to let them know that they were on the right path. All they had was trust, and each other.

Their love for each other didn't make things easier. Love didn't allow them to march right up to victory, and demand it, no, if anything, love made their chosen path harder to travel. Because loving their fellow soldiers meant hurting when they hurt, crying when they cried, and struggling to draw some good from their misfortune, because that's what they would have wanted.

When Scar attacked Alphonse and Edward, something changed inside of Al. He realized how close he and his beloved brother actually were to death, and that it was entirely possible that the two of them would not live to see their twenties. But for that day, they had fought the odds, and won. They lived. And all Al could do was utter a single, cold Hallelujah that they survived.

When Roy heard the news of Hughes death, revenge was the first thing that came to his mind. He realized that Hughes was killed because he knew something, and after thinking for a while, he came to the conclusion that, even though Hughes died because of the information, Roy would never have discovered anything if Hughes hadn't tipped him off with his last action. But even though Hughes's death gave Mustang and his men a head start on the Homunculi, Roy couldn't bring himself to say even the most broken of a Hallelujah.

When the first branch of the state library burned down, Ed did nothing but swear for a good hour. He knew that what they were looking for was somewhere mixed among all the ash and debris, and that they would most likely never see the truth they so desired. But, with the help of Sciezska, the files were recovered. They found Marcoh's research. But what they discovered turned even Ed's most joyous Hallelujah into a broken one.

When Havoc lay in the hospital bed right across from her Colonel's, Riza wanted to act uncharacteristically and hug the two of them until her arms couldn't move anymore. She knew that the same ones who were responsible for the injuries that sent Havoc and Mustang to the hospital in the first place could easily finish her two fellow officers off if she let her guard down. But for the moment, they were safe. And that alone was enough reason for Riza to let out a Hallelujah, even if it was an uneasy, cold one.

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah. _

_Hallelujah._

The pace of events only quickened. There was no rest as they were thrown from one catastrophe to another. And Winry Rockbell had never felt more useless in her life.

She remembered when they were kids—it seemed like such a long time ago. Even though Ed and Al were still in their teens, she couldn't bring herself to see them as the same innocent kids she knew before. They'd seen things that would make grown men cringe, and she knew, even if they wouldn't tell her, that they were chasing after something huge.

Back when they were kids, there were no secrets between the three of them. They knew everything about each other at all times; Winry had liked that. She'd liked knowing that they cared . Back then, they actually let her know what was going on when she wasn't around. But now, they never showed that to her, did they?

The first secret they'd kept from her was about alchemy. Their plans to revive their dead mother. She couldn't help but think, that maybe, just maybe, if they'd told her, or if she'd tried just a little harder to figure it out, none of this would have happened. Al would have a body, and Ed wouldn't break his automail every few seconds.

She remembered when they were young and carefree and had everything right in the world. Every breath they drew had been Hallelujah, and every misfortune, they'd somehow found a way to turn into a good thing. Life had been better than good, back then.

Back before Ed became so bitter, and Al seemed like he was always holding something back. She'd seen them change more than anyone else, which was only natural, seeing as she'd known them longer than anyone else had.

Automail was the only thing she had to hold onto when they left. Because automail seemed to be the only thing that kept them coming back to her. They never stopped by to say hi. She would have killed for them to visit her one time, just to visit. Just to talk to her. And for them to actually talk, not hold everything back and hide behind their secrets and deceptions like they seemed to do so often.

She'd known them long enough to see what was happening. They were breaking, and if something didn't happen soon, her two best friends would shatter.

Winry hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that, but, if it did, she would be the one to pick up the pieces.

No matter how close they seemed to destroying themselves, they'd always smile for her. And she'd smile back; knowing that they were still alive was all she could ask for. After they left, she'd whisper the same thing as she waved goodbye.

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

_Hallelujah. _

_Hallelujah._

Maybe there was a God above. Just maybe, there was something else, something other than that faceless thing that called itself the Truth looking out for them. Roy had to believe that.

Either that, or the Truth wasn't as bad as he was cracked up to be.

Roy still hated him, either way, seeing as the Truth _did _take his sight away for no good reason. But he couldn't help but wonder if maybe the Truth dealt humans more than just misfortune to prevent them from swelling with pride.

Because when he listened to what was going on around him after Edward punched Father's face in, he definitely didn't hear misfortune.

He heard cheers and joyous screams. He heard congratulations, and thank-you, and you-were-amazing. Celebrations could be heard throughout the entire city. It seemed as if there wasn't a single soul who was grieving. He didn't hear a bit of misfortune.

At least, that was his first impression.

Riza led him back to his office after a bit—his old office, not the new one that Bradley had assigned to him after separating him from his men. For some reason, that was the one place Roy wanted to go. He wanted to sit in his old office with his First Lieutenant, and just _exist._ He wanted to just be where she was and know that after following him through hell like she had, she'd survived.

Okay, so maybe he was hoping to do a little more than just exist with his First Lieutenant.

He shook the thought away and let her lead him. Now was definitely not the time to confess—knowing her, she'd simply chalk it up to him being under a lot of stress and not thinking clearly.

They reached the familiar place before too long, and Roy shook his head and gave a bitter smile. He didn't need Riza to lead him to his desk; he'd walked the path to it so many times that even blind, he knew the way. For a second, he missed his old office in the East, but Roy knew better than to be sentimental over an office he would likely never see again.

Roy Mustang sat down and rested his arms on the sides of the chair, taking in everything he could sense about his surroundings.

That was when he really started to think.

He couldn't see.

But he'd survived, right? He'd helped save the day. He'd be known as a hero for something other than slaughtering thousands of innocent people. He'd wanted that, right?

But he couldn't _see._

Ed couldn't use alchemy.

But he'd gotten his brother's body back, right? He'd defeated Father with his bare hands. He'd be talked about for centuries. Fullmetal was a true hero.

But he couldn't use alchemy.

Roy laughed. He laughed out loud and for so long that his stomach began to hurt and he had to fight the tears that threatened to escape from his eyes. For a second, he worried that Riza would think him strange, but before long, she started to laugh too.

She understood. Of course she did. Roy scolded himself for thinking she wouldn't.

Roy had finally grasped the concept of love.

Love was acceptance. Love was not dwelling on the past because all those what-if scenarios he played out in his head didn't matter. Love was understanding that what's done is done, and staying up late thinking over possibilities is pointless.

Love was pain. Love was taking the fallout that came with the victory because even though there was a catch, or a drawback, there was no such thing as a complete and pure triumph. Love was learning to draw happiness from the gain, and take the loss without complaint.

Love was equivalent exchange.

Love was giving before you could take.

Roy knew that love was not somebody who'd seen the light.

Love was a cold and broken Hallelujah.

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah.

Hallelujah…

xxxx

Yeah, I'm afraid I didn't really do the series justice, but I did try. If you could tell me what you think by dropping me a review, I'll love you forever. ^^


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